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<title>The marks on you and me. by Miss Anne Thropy (Rahndom)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25391746">The marks on you and me.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rahndom/pseuds/Miss%20Anne%20Thropy'>Miss Anne Thropy (Rahndom)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dorks in Love, Fic and Art, Fluff, Healthy Relationships, M/M, Scars, Tattoos, Tim Drake has scars, teeth-rotting fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:28:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,036</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25391746</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rahndom/pseuds/Miss%20Anne%20Thropy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this year's Tim Drake Birthday Scavenger Hunt over on Discord for the amazing Andrew!</p><p>"He especially enjoyed it when Tim’s fingers would trace his ink, his nails scratching lightly, as if trying to feel any bump of scar the tattoo gun might have left."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>156</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The marks on you and me.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You have a new one,” Tim whispered, his cheeks flushed as he traced his finger carefully around Conner’s calf. “Right here…” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Yeah,” Conner replied, watching Tim’s clouded eyes, the pallor of his skin. “Have you slept?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Not yet,” Tim said dismissively. “Are those little robins?” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Conner nodded, fighting off a smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew that Tim disapproved of his tacky tattoos. He had told him over and over again that having tattoos was asking for trouble, that he was giving up his secret identity and that leaving his skin vulnerable for a tattoo artist that might take advantage of him was a big no no and yeah, if Tim was any other person, he would have been pissed - Clark was living proof of that - but Tim was Tim and he knew his best friend was only blurting out all of his immediate thoughts out of concern for his own safety. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim was blunt when he was worried. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Conner liked that about him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah, it’s a taillow,” he nodded with a grin when Tim’s scowl darkened. “You know, the pokemon?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know what a Taillow is,” Tim’s lips curled as he eyed the new tattoo, a tick on his eyebrow. “That’s not a Taillow, that’s a Robin.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is, Great Detective,” Conner agreed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And that’s a red breasted Robin,” Tim pointed out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Conner nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And a… duck?” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“A mallard, yes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim tilted his head, his hair falling into his eyes. Conner couldn’t hold in the snort that seemed to fight its way out of his lips. Tim liked making sense of his canvas of little doodles and large art pieces, sometimes he would find him staring at his back, at his winged superman symbol and blush, it was cute. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sleep deprived Tim trying to think why on earth Conner wanted three little birds on his skin was just the best. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t get it,” Tim finally admitted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are sleep deprived,” Conner chirped. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim’s lips curled downwards. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Irrelevant,” he argued, waving a hand, eyes still locked onto his calf. “What’s with the birds?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Conner sighed, wrapping his arm around Tim’s waist and slowly pulling the other teen to sit on his lap, cradling his skinny frame between his legs and displaying his uncovered calf to Tim’s curious eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s my Robin,” he explained, pointing to the smallest bird. “And that’s my Red Robin.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Aha?” Tim hummed, snuggling his head under Conner’s chin out of habit. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“And this,” Conner hesitated, pointing to his mallard. “Is my Drake.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim stared at him for a moment, blinking once, twice… three times. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” he said finally, his cheeks coloring a bright pink. “How many tattoos of me do you actually have?” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I thought you would know by now, Mr. Great Detective,” Conner teased, running his fingers through Tim’s hair, fluffing it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously,” Tim huffed against his neck. “Don’t do that, I have to finish two reports before…” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>His protests were cut off by a yawn. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’ll be there when you wake up,” Conner reasoned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim stared at him blearily. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wake me up in ten minutes?” he finally admitted, snuggling against Conner’s sun-warm chest and sighing, instantly asleep. Conner was secretly happy this time it had not taken as much to get Tim to finally fall asleep. The last time he and the others had been called to reign in Tim’s bad habits, Dick was practically in tears - Tim got really sassy when he was sleep deprived - and Batman was banging his forehead against the table in frustration. Tim had climbed him like a tree, snuggling against his abnormally warm skin and had hissed at Red Hood until Conner had decided to fly away with him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeah, he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a thrill at the thought that he was one of the only ones to get Tim to actually relax, better than awesome big bro Dick and Daddy Bat himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was an insecure teenager at heart so sue him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He decided Tim would be more comfortable if he floated for a while, so he did, slowly rocking his boyfriend back and forth, smiling a little when Tim only protested softly, got a little more comfortable and continued to doze on top of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And yeah, maybe half the reason he liked his tattoos and piercings had more to do with the way Tim’s eyes dilated as he stared at him, how he had come to accept them and took them as a personal puzzle for him to unravel, and sure, Conner also liked the express his life on his skin, how it allowed himself to express control over his own body in ways he sometimes needed, but Tim’s opinion was also a great plus. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He especially enjoyed it when Tim’s fingers would trace his ink, his nails scratching lightly, as if trying to feel any bump of scar the tattoo gun might have left.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was basically the same Conner did to his boyfriend whenever he came home with a new scar or scratch on his body and yeah, battle scars were kind of different from voluntary tattoos but well, Conner liked them, he liked the way they littered Tim’s skin, a stark reminder of just how vulnerable, how </span>
  <em>
    <span>human</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew Clark sometimes felt fright when he touched Lois, because she was fragile and vulnerable and oh, so breakable, and yeah, Tim was too, but instead of fright, Conner felt pride, because sure, Tim could break so easily, and still, Tim flung himself feet first towards Conner, eyes closed, unafraid, strong and willful. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim had the confidence in Conner that few others could express. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In Tim’s trust, Conner felt himself more powerful than every. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiled, letting his fingers grace over Tim’s new set of scratches - either Catwoman or Killer Croc, Conner wasn’t sure - and snuggled a little against Tim’s cooler skin, closed his eyes and decided to join his boyfriend down for a nap. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew Tim would be pissed when he realized he was going to sleep for more than the ten minutes he had requested but, yeah, Conner would let Batman and Dick deal with that fallout. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was going to enjoy his pliant, sleepy lover while it lasted. </span>
</p><p><br/>

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